Forgive Me, Not
by CertainUncertainty
Summary: Nikita's paid to destroy a research lab and all of the specimens in it, but discovers something that turns her world on its head. How much is the life of a former lover, who everyone believes is dead, really worth? Set after Saints Row the Third. Rated for Gat's dirty mind and filthy mouth. [Gat x OC]
1. Mindfucked

**Forgive Me, Not**

Nikita dropped to the floor from a moved panel in the ceiling with a huff. She waited, listening intently for a sign that the building wasn't abandoned like her anonymous employer had promised. She didn't like surprises. Hell, she didn't even like nicknames. When nothing moved and no alarm sounded off, she stood slowly, pulling out her two black pistols from the gun holsters attached to her thighs. She advanced slowly, having spent days remembering the layout of the research lab. Various machines whirred quietly, giving her something to focus on.

Her instructions were clear - destroy the data on the computers then torch the place, including the specimens. For five million dollars, it was a very simple task. She'd already received half of it in good faith; her reputation as a diligent mercenary preceded her.

She reached into her bra and pulled out a small silver bar, the size of a battery. She found one of the many surge protectors and placed the bar next to it, then pressed a button on the side of it. It made five clicks before it chimed. An electrical sizzle was heard and suddenly the lights went out. She pulled a slim flashlight out of her cleavage and turned it on, scanning the room. Every computer, every monitor was smoking. A magnetic pulse as strong as that should have successfully wiped every computer clean.

She went back to her entrance, used a chair to reach the ceiling, and pulled down a container of gasoline. Working quickly and efficiently, she doused everything, taking care to concentrate on the computers and specimens. She tried not to focus on their sleeping faces; that just made it harder. She was pleased that her employer hadn't tried to lie to her - there weren't any children there. She didn't kill children, no matter the price or reason. And if she heard that someone else had taken up the contract she denied, she personally went back to end that fucker's life.

Just as she rehearsed, everything only took her five minutes. She aimed her gun at a puddle of gasoline, ready to pull the trigger, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A faint light pulsed along the baseboard of the wall behind the computers. "The fuck?" She put away her gun and stepped towards the wall. She felt along the wall until she felt a dent and pressed it. With a loud click and a whir, the wall slid away into its pocket, revealing a large cryogenic chamber. She hadn't seen one like it since she'd last seen Batman & Robin, with Nora Fries floating in it. The glass was frosted over, so she couldn't see who was in it. Whoever it was, they were tall. She tilted her head to the side, curious. She raised her hand up to brush the frost away.

She shouldn't.

She shook her head, mentally scolding herself. She pulled her hand back and went for her gun with the other. It wasn't her business. She didn't need to know.

Ugh. But she just _knew_ if she didn't look, she'd spend the next few days obsessing over it.

Fuck.

She spun around and used her forearm to brush the frost away. If that wasn't enough for her to see, then she didn't need to look. She lifted her eyes to the cleared glass and gasped.

She stared at the tank, shell shocked. _'It couldn't be...'_ Yet it was. She knew those eyes, nose, and lips anywhere. Confusion gripped her. _'But it was announced that he was dead!'_ Her mind screamed. Not too many things could catch her off guard, make her lose her cool and focus when on a mission. But this? _Holy shit._

Her eyes watered and she covered her mouth. He was in a cryogenic chamber, so by definition, her employer wanted him dead as well. Her shoulders slumped. She hated him for what he did to her, sure, but did she hate him enough to _kill_ him? Was five million dollars worth it?

She knew then she was well and truly fucked. She dropped her head back and sighed loudly, pushing her fingers through her long hair then pulling it in frustration. He was an asshole, but he didn't deserve to die.

Nikita stepped back, then fired two rounds into the glass. Water leaked from the bullet holes, pushing the gasoline on the floor back away from the chamber. With a quick roundhouse kick, she broke the glass with her heel to avoid the chance of harming him. The water rushed out to greet her, soaking her leather bodysuit with ice cold water. She forced herself to ignore the sudden drop in temperature, holding her arms out to catch his unconscious form. She underestimated the force behind the water and his weight, lost her balance, and fell, his body trapping her on the floor. "Damn it." He had to have weighed at least two hundred pounds!

After a half hour of struggling with dead weight, she managed to stuff him in the passenger seat of her black Hayate Z70 and buckle him in. She exhaled and wiped sweat from her brow. She hoped like hell that her employer wouldn't notice that she hadn't exactly disposed of _every_ specimen. She quickly made it around the car to the driver's side and hopped in, the smoke becoming thicker in the air. The car roared to life and she looked at him, forcing herself to keep her hands to herself. At one time, she loved touching his cheeks.

_But that was before he'd chosen Aisha over her..._

She closed her eyes. There was something seriously wrong with her.

She stomped down on the gas, and the car shot forward. Within minutes, she was on the highway, heading back to Stilwater.

Her phone rang and she reached over to the dashboard and hit the Send button. "Yeah."

"You done?"

She smiled. "Yeah, Ace, I'm done. There's not a trace of anything left."

There was a triumphant shout. "Yes! An easy million dollars just landed in my pocket!"

Nikita allowed herself to relax. "Yeah, what are you gonna do with it?"

"I don't fucking know, yet. But thank you, Nikita, for taking me on as your tech. If it weren't for you - "

"Don't mention it, girl. I'm on my way back to my condo in Stilwater. Turn down all contract offers until I tell you I'm ready to be put back on."

"Are you finally taking that vacation? Your girl will be pleased you're making time for her."

She smiled brightly, embracing the warm fuzzies she got whenever she thought about Sophia. "God, I haven't seen her in a month."

"Take it easy then. Text me if you need me okay?"

"Will do." She ended the phone call and sighed. She hadn't had the heart to tell the girl that it was very possible they wouldn't get paid for that job. She looked over at her passenger. "You'd better be worth it, Gat."

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**A/N: This is actually set after the events of Free Falling, my first Saints Row fanfic. Of course, you don't have to read that to get this (which is why this note's after the chapter and not before), but the Boss portrayed later on here is first introduced there.**


	2. Reloaded

Something smelled good, like burning sandalwood. It was familiar, giving him a bit of nostalgia. _But for what?_ Instinctively, his hand hunted through soft cotton sheets for the source and found it an arm's length away. Warm skin, soft as satin. His fingertips shifted until his arm had curved around the body and he pulled it towards him.

"What the fuck?" The voice was feminine, yet husky from sleep. "Let go."

He snuggled closer, burying his face in smooth, silky hair before pushing it aside and pressing his face against a warm neck, where the scent was stronger and much more pleasant. It seemed like it had been forever since he'd held someone like this, since he'd had the pleasure of experiencing Victoria Secret's Amber Romance fragrance. Eash had never worn it. Maybe she'd finally caught his hint and picked some up? "You smell real good, Eash."

The body stiffened in his arms. "You fucking dick. Get off of me." The voice was all wrong and, now that he was closer to waking up, so was the body.

"Huh?" He opened his eyes just in time to see an elbow yank back violently towards him, catching him in the stomach. It forced the air out of his lungs, and he let go to cradle his abdomen. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

Jade green eyes glared at him. Eash didn't have green eyes. She didn't have an olive skin tone or hair the color of charcoal that hung down to her elbows.

Then who the fuck was this?

He sat up and started to get angry when he realized he'd been beaten to the punch. "I'm not Eash, you dickhead."

No, no she wasn't. Not by a long shot. "Niki."

She narrowed her eyes and turned away from him, her hair creating a black curtain that shielded her pretty face from view. "Don't call me that. Ever." She got up and stormed off to the bathroom, slamming the door. He thought hard. The last thing he remembered was...sleeping with her! He slapped a hand to his face and groaned. The best sex he'd had in weeks and he calls the girl some other chick's name. He fell on to his back and stared up at the ceiling. The room was a clean white complimented with medium wood floors. The condo had an eco friendly minimalist look that suited her.

_'I know you have a girlfriend...but I really do care for you...'_

Johnny sat up sharply.

_'But I guess it doesn't matter, huh? I have to leave Stilwater for Europe tomorrow...'_

Was it tomorrow already? A strange sense of de ja vu gripped him. Had he heard those words before? Or was this the first time? As if recalling a dream, the images played in his head. He'd allowed her to leave without telling her how he felt. He'd made up with Aisha and bought her a new rug and coffee table to replace the ones he'd messed up when interrogating a Ronin gang member.

He'd never seen or heard from Nikita again.

Could he really go through with that? Would he be able to let her walk away knowing that it was possible he'd never see her again?

He jumped up out of the bed, tossing the crisp clean white comforter on the floor as he dashed over to the bathroom door. Without a second thought, he turned the cold door knob and pushed it open. "Niki, we need to ta - "

She screamed, covering her bra covered breasts with the shirt she'd been trying to put on. "Aah! Get the fuck out, Gat!" She gave him a hard shove with one hand and slammed the door in his face. He stood there for a second, stunned. The scent of her perfume was stronger, as if she'd sprayed some more on herself, and he nearly tempted fate and his luck with her anger to go back in and convince her that she didn't need clothes at all.

He took a step back and noticed that the wooden floor was cold underneath his bare feet. His sudden awareness of the temperature made him realize that he had on a simple white shirt and boxers. If he'd slept with her the night before, then why in the hell did they both have on underwear? He liked to hang free and loose after pounding a kitty box.

Something didn't add up...

Nikita snatched the door open and pushed violently past him, heading out the bedroom. "Fucking barbarian..." She was mumbling something and he was willing to bet it had everything to do with him.

"Niki, we need to talk." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. She used the sudden change in direction to her advantage and aimed her fist at his face. He stepped back to avoid it, but let go of her arm, allowing her to swing again. "Niki, stop it!"

"You fucking jerk! Stop calling me that! You have _no_ right to call me that, ever again!" She swung harder than the first time, forcing him to duck back.

"What? Why the fuck not?"

Her swings became less coordinated as tears filled her voice. "Because, only people who love me get to call me that."

He frowned. "Well, fuck, I love you so I'm gonna keep calling you that."

She stopped and he grabbed her by her wrists. She looked up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears. "You...what?"

He sighed. Women. "I said I love you, _Niki_. If you really don't like me calling you that, then you're welcome to try kicking my ass to make me stop. But keep in mind, alcohol and an urge to wrestle was what got us into this week long love making getaway in the first place." He shrugged. "I've got nothing but time, babe."

Her eyes widened and her cheeks blushed a nice shade of peach as she backed away from him. "You don't mean that." She turned away and wiped her eyes. "I'm not gonna be your rebound, Gat."

"No, you're gonna be _mine_." He touched her hair, shoving his fingers through the length of it.


	3. Second Placed

**Thanks to those who've reviewed so far. They mean the world to me. Just to clarify, Nikita is **NOT** the Boss of the Saints. She's a simple mercenary who lives in Stilwater.**

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There's nothing worse than getting emotional in front of the person who broke your heart the worst. Nikita never claimed to be insensitive, but damn it, this just wasn't her! The master bathroom seemed much smaller than it really was simply because _he_ was in the other room, invading her space, her privacy. In hindsight, it was her fault for even bringing him to her condo. She could have easily dumped him outside of the Saints' headquarters - the doors were practically never closed. But, just as she'd found it impossible to leave him to die, she couldn't really bring herself to let him go. Hell, she'd spent the last six months believing he was dead. And even though Sophia had been able to comfort her, it had still broken her heart all over again to know that she had never meant enough to him to be given an explanation as to why he'd rejected her so coldly when she returned to Stilwater a month after their stolen week together.

Maybe that's how it was when it came to first love.

She sniffled quietly and dabbed at her eyes with the back of her arm, refusing to let go of her knees. Sitting in front of the toilet next to the bath tub and hugging her knees made Nikita feel like she was hiding from him, letting him win this one-sided war of their past. Jesus, the man wasn't even _trying_. She allowed her head to fall back against the wall, causing her hair to fall over her face and flow out over her shoulders. He'd touched her hair, just as he had the night they first met.

She had the urge to cut it off, just to spite him.

But Sophia loved every inch of it, and even aspired to grow her own hair out. Because of that, Nikita avoided hair cuts religiously. Thinking of Sophia's beautiful smile made her smile, chasing away the pain of Johnathan Kim's presence. She wiggled her rainbow polished toes, enjoying the feel of the black shag rug she sat on. Sophia had insisted they paint their toes to match. For someone who could kill without a second thought, Nikita found it odd that she could love someone the way she loved Sophia - unconditionally. She had experienced the worst of mankind, in nearly every way possible, yet she never expected anything but the best from Sophia. As cynical as she was, she trusted Sophia completely, unheard of in her profession.

A thought struck her, warming her from the inside out. She was in town. She checked her watch for the time and was sure Sophia had nothing better to do. She'd go see her and they could cook dinner together! That way, she could be as far away from Gat as possible and spend time with Sophia, as she promised she would do when she came back into town.

When she yanked the door open, he was standing there with his forehead pressed to the door frame. "Love me, yet?"

"Fuck off." She pushed him aside and went over to her dresser, searching for a suitable shirt.

"Niki, what the fuck? You tell me you love me then you give me the cold shoulder?" He walked towards her. She held out a hand, indicating that she wanted him to stop, and was grateful when he did.

"How I feel about you, at this point, is irrelevant."

She turned back to her dresser. There was a particular jade green shirt she wanted to wear. "What do you mean, irrelevant? What was the point, then, of telling me that shit?"

"I just wanted you to know. Didn't matter then, just like it doesn't matter now. Then, you had Aisha. Now, I have Sophia." She lowered her voice. "Go chase some other piece of ass."

His large hand grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "What the fuck are you talking about? 'Had Aisha'? And why didn't you mention Sophia at the club the other night?"

"The other..." She stared up at him, searching his eyes for a lie. He was serious. "You don't know? You...don't remember?"

"Remember what?" He was close to shouting at her and his grip on her arm was crossing the line. As mad as she was and as much as she now hated him, she realized that maybe being in the deep freezer had affected his brain. She thought back on their conversation so far and realized that he was stuck in the past, back when they were finishing up their first and last week together. If he'd been anyone else, she would have enjoyed driving the figurative knife in his chest and twisting it slowly. Instead, she couldn't bear to see him hurt, even if he'd hurt her just as badly. "Well?"

She licked her lips, unable to look at him. "Gat, Aisha died over four years ago."

His hand dropped away from her slowly, falling back to his side in a tightly closed fist, as if he was restraining himself from hitting her. "I know you don't like her, but don't say shit like that." He'd drunkenly confided in her that his girlfriend had faked her death, which hadn't surprised Nikita. However, she was upset that someone as attractive as him was tied down to a chick who couldn't even protect herself properly. What kind of woman had to depend on a man for everything? She could have at least learned judo or something. Nikita hated fairy tales and the helpless damsels portrayed in them. She was beyond happy when she found out that Sophia was more into action and was fond of fictional female characters who could kick ass.

Unable to think of anything else to say, she pulled out her cell phone, tapping the internet icon. First, a search engine popped up, showing the day's date. She showed him the phone. Before he could speak, she held up a finger then quickly searched Aisha's name. Finding the most recent article that best detailed Aisha's gruesome murder, she handed him the phone and turned back to her dresser, searching for a better pair of jeans. Once she found them, she went into the bathroom to change. She took the time to brush her hair up into a high ponytail and put on her favorite pair of hoop earrings. Since it was Sophia, after all, she went ahead and applied makeup because she knew Sophia liked to see it on her, and opted for clear lip gloss since she knew Sophia would want plenty of kisses to makeup for the time Nikita had been gone. It was very hard to tell Sophia no when she wanted something.

There was a series loud crashes. Instinct kicked in and she snatched open the sink's cabinet door and detached a pistol she had taped to the inside of it. She listened and when she didn't hear anything, slowly opened the door. Her room was trashed and there was no sign of Gat. Fuck. Did someone follow them home? Was it a burglar? She tightened her grip on her gun then forced herself to relax. Damn, she just _had_ to want white walls.

The front door slammed and she stopped to listen. Complete silence. She took another careful step forward and stepped on her phone. "The hell?" She picked up the abused electronic and sighed. The screen was well beyond repair. "Sonnofa - " She walked over to the waste basket near her desk and dropped it in. She moved the mouse to wake up her computer and quickly pulled up her instant messenger, specially designed by Ace. "Thanks, Gat." She shot her friend a message asking her to bring her a new phone the next day.

She looked at her watch again then at her room. Fuck it. She'd clean it up later. She grabbed her keys and slid on her flip-flops that sat near the door. Within minutes, she was in her car, backing out of her designated parking spot.

The High End Retail neighborhood wasn't her ideal place to live. In fact, she often thought about buying a house in the Suburbs district to be closer to Sophia, but shied away from the idea because she just _knew_ she'd be tormented with the idea of Sophia living with her. Though she wanted that more than her next breath, it was too soon. She'd have to give up being a mercenary for good, so Sophia wouldn't be lonely. Also, until she was sure there wouldn't be any repercussions from leaving a loose end free from her last job, she wouldn't dare endanger her life.

It could wait. She just hoped Sophia wouldn't give up on her.

With driving maneuvers worthy of a ticket for reckless driving, she came to a stop in front of a large house. Her heart swelled to the point of bursting as she got out and jogged to the front door. She knocked, a simple tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb". Within minutes, the door yanked open and eyes the color of melted chocolate lit up with joy.

"Hi, Sophy."

**o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o**

The front door closed and he heard the click of a key turning in a lock. He splashed more water on his face then gripped the porcelain sink to steady himself. It had to be a lie, it just had to. _But how else could he explain the flashbacks?_ Reading the news article had made something in his head unravel, revealing a bit of something that he'd forgotten. _How could he forget?_ That was just it, after simply reading a few words, he couldn't forget. Blood on the wall. Blood on the floor. A lifeless, headless body tied to a chair.

His stomach churned, threatening to weaken him again. It was too much. With one memory, the rest were coming back. His head swam and he hurled again, vomit coming out with so much force that it all didn't stay in the sink. Once his stomach was empty, his body resorted to dry heaving. He tried to get a grip, but his body was freaking out on him. Within seconds, he lost consciousness and fell to the floor.


	4. Remembered

The early rays of daybreak woke her from her slumber, causing her to grimace and turn her head away from it. Pain from her stiff neck effectively chased sleep away as she reached up to rub it. Her wrist sparkled in the sunlight, stopping her. "The hell...?" She brought her wrist closer to her face. A bracelet made of multi-colored opaque beads adorned it, with a single silver heart shaped charm dangling freely. A soft sigh caught her attention and she became aware of the strong scent of lavender and weight on her chest. She looked down and smiled contently.

She'd fallen asleep while watching a movie with Sophia, something she hadn't done since Sophia's last birthday. Her smile died. Sophia's next birthday was in less than two weeks. Had she really spent so little time with her? She thought that she gave Sophia as much time as her profession would allow, but had she really? She looked down at the sleeping face nestled over hear heart, seeing dried tears on her cheeks. _'Oh, yeah...'_ When Nikita had happily announced her intent to stay in Stilwater for the next two weeks, Sophia had immediately gone to her room and started throwing clothes in her suitcase. She loved her grandparents dearly, but never passed up a chance to stay with Nikita when she was in town and not working.

However, Gat was in the picture. She didn't know where that lunatic was and she damn sure didn't want Sophia to have some sort of mental breakdown just because her favorite Saint of all time was actually still alive. If they were to ever meet, Sophia first needed to adjust to the idea. Nikita absently smoothed down Sophia's mussed ink black hair, comforted by the familiar silky texture. In the darkest corner of her mind, she had to admit to herself that she was terrified of the idea of Gat and Sophia in the same room. Sophia idolized the man with a passion that bordered on obsession, and because she was who she was, Nikita had no right to stop her from doing so. But what if Gat brushed her off? Thoughts of causing bodily harm to him came to mind, easily quelling some of her fears and anxiety. No, she couldn't make him play nice with Sophia, but she had no qualms about castrating his ass should her hurt her feelings.

And there was a bullet with his name on it should he be unfortunate enough to break his number one fan's heart.

The more she gave it thought, the more she realized that she shouldn't change anything just because he'd dropped back into her life. Sophia was the constant; Gat was barely a variable.

Confident she'd be back to pick up Sophia and take her back to her condo, she slid out from under her and placed a couch pillow under her head. She allowed her fingers to lightly trace the matching bracelet on Sophia's wrist before pressing her lips lightly over the dried tear trail on her cheek. "I'll be back soon, baby." _'I promise,'_ she added firmly in her head.

**o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o**

The sounds of the TV greeted her, making her pause. She hadn't left the TV on. Johnny had left before she had, and she'd locked the door when she left. She quickly checked her watch as she bent down and pulled up pants leg, quietly sliding a thin black hilt and blade dagger out of its sheath attached to her calf. She preferred guns, but she never took one near Sophia, instead choosing to arm herself with small weapons. To her, it didn't really matter what the hell she had to use - if she wanted someone dead, they ended up that way, whether by gun, knife, grenade, or in a few cases, fork.

She advanced carefully, knowing full well that if anyone but him was in the condo, they were aware she was in the apartment, and were probably waiting for her to turn the corner. Yes, this meant that she could have been walking into a trap, into a bullet no doubt, but the fucker wouldn't get away with invading her space. She'd already had to deal with the guilt of upsetting Sophia with the idea that someone else was in her home instead of her. She was barely able to handle Gat being around. No, she'd draw the line at home invasion, and she'd draw it across their throat, even if it meant taking a few bullets.

She pressed herself up against the wall and used the blade of the dagger to see around the corner. In the dark metal, she could see a figure sitting calmly on the couch, waiting for her. _'Arrogant bastard!' _

Nikita turned the corner and, with a precise flick of her wrist, let the dagger fly from her fingertips. The second she released it, she wished she hadn't.

"What the fuck?!" He had caught the dagger with his hand, keeping it from lodging in his unprotected throat. He had fallen over and caught himself on his elbow, glaring at her. "I fucked up your room and destroyed your phone, yeah, I know. But do you really gotta try to kill me over it?"

"Fuck, sorry." She rounded the coffee table and reached for his wrist. He jerked back, still holding the blade firmly in his closed fist. She sighed and rolled her eyes. She'd never hear the end of this. With a huff, she disappeared into the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit she kept under the sink. "I have to bandage your hand."

"Right. You just wanna finish the job." He held up his other hand. "I'm good."

"Damn it, Gat." She sat down on the black suede sofa beside him and yanked his fist into her lap. "Stop being so fucking difficult." She pried his fist open and hissed as blood began to pool in his palm around the embedded blade. "Ugh, this is too deep to let heal on its own."

He grunted as she lifted the dagger away from his flesh and placed it on a sheet of gauze before setting his hand on a thicker stack. She pulled out a small vile of clear liquid and opened up a package containing a sterilized needle. "Why in the hell do you have all this hospital shit?"

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye and, when she saw that he wasn't being sarcastic, answered truthfully. "I keep a hospital grade first aid kit with me at all times - it comes in handy when you tend to trade bullets with your enemies. This is more effective and less painful than simply digging out bullets with a knife or my fingers. Heals better and has less scarring, too." She injected the needle into the liquid and withdrew enough of it to do what she wanted. "This is lidocaine. It'll numb your hand enough so I can sew it up."

"I don't need that shit."

"Yes, you do." She gave him a pointed look. "I don't need you flinching or I'll have to start over. I'm used to sewing up wounds on other parts of the body that don't move much like arms, legs, and backs. The hand is more complicated for me." She injected the liquid into various points around the gaping wound. "If I know you can't feel much, then I won't be as tempted to torture you."

"I have a high tolerance for pain." He shrugged and leaned closer to her. "But whatever makes you feel better. I wanted to talk with you."

"About what?" She responded absently, used to supplying part of a conversation. She pressed gauze lightly to the wound to soak up the excess blood as she concentrated on threading the needle.

"Us."

"There is no 'us', Johnny. There's you, then there's me. No 'us'."

"You don't believe that."

"I don't believe you believe there's an 'us'." She stabbed the needle into flesh and, when he didn't flinch or make a noise indicating pain, she continued. "Besides, you still have to accept that Aisha - "

"She's dead, I know."

She looked at him, searching his eyes for the truth. He shrugged so she turned back to his hand. "You don't sound bothered by it at all."

"I've seen a lot of people die, most of them by my own hand or because of me. I spent years beating myself up because of her. Then one day I woke the fuck up. Shit happens. Of course, I cared about her and if I could go back and change it, I would. But my mama always told me, 'there's no future if you ignore the present to live in your past.'"

Those words rang true in her heart, making her pause. He was right. She could stay angry with him, but what would that change? When she considered that she now had Sophia, it was stupid to dwell on their past when her present and future were so bright with love and happiness. "Yeah."

"To be honest, I'm not sure I loved Eash. I mean, I really fucking cared about her, but I never once thought about marrying her or having kids."

She stopped again, then just as quickly picked back up her task. "Have you even ever thought about kids?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "I don't know. I mean, when I'd go to the schools and talk to the kids, I couldn't see myself being one of those dads you see on TV. They'd cramp my style." She could hear the grin in his voice.

"Not to mention you're a bullet magnet." Realizing she was nearly done sewing up the gash, she took a deep breath. "Gat, you have to go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't be an ass. You have a place of your own, and I'm sure your gang would love to know you've pulled a Lazarus. You need to go meet up with them."

"They can wait. I've got shit to settle with you first."

She exhaled loudly and quickly wrapped up his hand, shoving it out of her lap. "There isn't anything to settle."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're sexy as hell when you're angry? Your eyes get darker and your voice gets lower, close to that 'fuck me' octave. I like that."

She stood up and marched into the kitchen, dumping the used supplies in the trash compactor. "You should go drink some Imodium."

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"To try to dry up the excessive bullshit spewing out of your mouth." She placed the kit on the kitchen island and turned to the sink to wash her hands. Before she could turn off the tap, she was spun around and lips crashed onto hers aggressively. Desire ignited within her instantly, setting her skin on fire. The tip of his tongue swept across her lips enticing her to give in to him. The thought of giving in snapped her out of it. She wedged her arms in between their bodies and forced him to step back. "Do not _ever_ do that again."

"That morning when you told me how you felt, I should have done the same. I _would_ have done the same, if I'd known it'd be this long before I saw you again."

"Gat - " He pressed a finger to her lips and leaned in, dropping his normally calm and casual voice to just a sensual whisper.

_"Stop and listen to me. The way I feel about you hasn't changed since then. I've always wanted you, period. I can tell you don't believe me, and that's fine for now..."_ His finger traced her lips, pushing down ever so slightly on her bottom lip to pry them apart. _"But, eventually, you're gonna come around. And I don't care what you do with Sophia after that point, as long as you're mine first and foremost."_

He let go of her and turned away. "I'm gonna go lay back down for a few more hours. When I get up, we're gonna go down to the Saints Hideout."

"We? Why do I have to go?" She wanted to follow after him, but her legs were jelly. _'Damn him...'_

"Who else will explain how I was found better than you? Besides," he stopped and gave her a shit eating grin. "Boss will love to meet you."


	5. Triggered

**A/N: I kinda struggled with this a bit, but I think this version is better than the other one I have. Maybe. Read, enjoy, and review~**

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Nikita had heard a lot of things about the Leader of the Saints, and considered most of it to be pure myth. As she buckled herself into her seat and started up the car, she began to second guess that. If she were wrong about the man, and happened to rub him the wrong way, then that could spell disaster. It was awfully hard to take down a juggernaut...

"Absolutely sure I have to go in? Can't you explain and then just come back for me if he doesn't believe you?"

"Waste of time." He waved her off, relaxing in his seat after adjusting his new pair of sunglasses. "We just go in, sit and talk, then drink and smoke the day away."

She frowned. "I don't drink or smoke."

She saw his head turn as he stared at her. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"I don't like not having total control of myself. If shit pops off, and it could at any given time, I don't want to be inebriated." She shook her head and backed out of parking spot.

He nodded. "I can appreciate that. I've been beyond fucked up and had some shit rain down on my head. But being wasted just made it more fun."

"You ever consider counseling of some sort?"

"Just the kind you get between the sheets." He gave her a wicked, pearly grin. She rolled her eyes and pressed down on the gas; the sooner she got the lunatic out of her car and out of her life, the better.

Gat noticed that she seemed apprehensive about going into the hideout with him. She'd been fine with taking him there until he mentioned her going inside with him. There was no reason for her to not want to go in; she could hold her own.

As he mulled over the possible outcomes in his head, the pedestrians on the sidewalk caught his eye. _Black and red_. "The fuck?"

Nikita stopped the car at a red light (something Gat had never done before) allowing him a better look. _Black and red_. "What the fuck are _they_ doing here?"

Nikita glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "The Morningstar? They've been here for a while now. Another gang to replace an old one. There are two others, too." She touched his arm lightly as humor colored her voice. "Wait until you see the Luchadores."

He barely registered her words. His mind was trapped in his past - recent for him, distant to his enemies.

_'Right on. See you back in Stil - '_

_Before he could finish his sentence, bullets peppered the control panel of the plane as others hit his body. He'd taken many bullets before, but for some reason, this was very different. His body was slowly going numb where the bullets had entered, his limbs were becoming dead weights he couldn't lift. He leaned against the controls in an attempt to keep himself on his feet and promptly slid down, pushing the yoke which caused the plane to jerk violently, knocking everyone down with him. Loren shouted and two of his goons scrambled to their feet and began messing with the controls._

_'How do you feel, Mr. Gat?' Loren braced himself against the wall of the cockpit, somehow still able to smile confidently. Johnny tried to move, wiggle a toe even, but couldn't do anything. 'The bullets used on you are a recent experiment from my laboratories - dry ice bullet shells filled with a delicate mixture of lidocaine and valium. Perfect, I think, for taking down a target and sedating them quickly and avoiding the mess of having to dig the slugs out of the body.' He reached into his suit and pulled out a small handgun with a long muzzle on its end. 'It seems that the bullet stayed in tact long enough to pierce your skin before losing its composure. While I do trust the medication is effective, I do not trust your metabolism, Mr. Gat. Forgive me for taking extra precautionary measures to ensure you do not simply get back up.'_

_'You. French. Fuck.' Johnny's eyes widened as the French fucker leveled the gun at his chest and pulled the trigger quickly, turning his world to instant darkness._

_'ARGH! I. Am. BELGIAN! Are they off of the plane?'_

_'Yes, sir.' A delicate feminine voice answered._

_'As planned.' A similar, yet more sultry, finished the sentence._

_'Good. Put him in the titanium crate. Take _no_ chances. I need to make a phone call...'_

Though the darkness blanketed him completely, ending the brief flashback, it dredged up a torrent of anger and vengeance. "Stop the car."

"What? No." Nikita rewarded his bizarre request with a jade green jaded glare. "There's no reason for you to get of out the car. You're supposed to go meet up with your crew."

Gat reached under her seat and grabbed a KA-1 Kobra, knowing by the weight alone that it was fully upgraded to armor piercing bullets. _'Perfect.'_ "I have a good reason to get out of the car. There's some people back there I need to talk to."

"Gat, _no_. You will _not_ start a fucking shoot out - What good will it do you to start some shit with them?"

"Personal reasons." He replied in that infuriatingly calm voice as he made sure the gun was loaded then cocked it. "I'm not asking you to join in, Niki. I just didn't wanna get run over trying to jump out of the fucking car. Either way, I'm getting out."

Fury exploded within her and she slammed on the brakes. "Fine! Go! I go through the trouble of saving your ass so you can get killed in some bullshit gunfight in the streets? You fucking asshole. What a waste of my fucking time!"

"Love you, too." Gat grinned, leaned over, and quickly kissed her cheek before getting out. As soon as his feet hit the pavement, she stomped down angrily on the gas, tires screeching and slamming the door shut for him. Muttering and cursing the man to hell and back. Shots rang out violently and screams of terror followed.

"Don't look in the mirror, Nik. Don't even think about him. Just keep driving." She told herself as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. But deep down, she just _knew_ if she didn't look, she'd obsess later over what happened. If she never saw him again, she'd assume the worst and beat herself up over it. "FUCKING HELL!" She shook her head. She would not, under any circumstances, look back. Instead, she'd go see Sophia. Yeah, that's it. Concentrate on Sophia.

Hindsight kicked Gat's ass. As soon as he realized that the Morningstar were armed with assault rifles, he wanted to shoot himself. Thinking things through wasn't his strong suit, he knew. As he traded bullets with the seven members of the rival gang, he also had to dodge the cars of frantic citizens simply trying to get the hell out of the way to avoid an immediate, unplanned funeral. A single fucking pistol? He could see the smug look on Boss' face. Fucking A. With a deep breath, he charged the closest enemy, blessing them in the face with a hard smack of his gun. It stunned them long enough for him to shoot them in the throat and snatch away their gun. With Nikita's pistol in one hand and a rifle in the other, he went to work.

Bullets flew in every direction, hitting any and everyone. Gat ducked behind an abandoned car, and waited until he heard the light footfalls of expensive shoes coming closer to him. He popped up and pulled the trigger of his rifle, spraying left to right, and severed a woman's head off. He hadn't meant to do it, but the gun had one hell of a kick when it wasn't held with both hands. A man yelled and rushed towards him, aiming to kill Gat for his fallen comrade. A single shot through his expensive sunglasses dropped him to the pavement. Gat quickly rounded the car to advance on the others who stood on the other side of the street, a vain attempt to stay a safe distance away from him.

Ha, as if.

He lifted the arm holding the pistol and pulled the trigger. One, two, three times. Another body dropped after brain matter splattered on the window of the store behind him. Before he could aim his gun at his next target, a bullet caught him in the shoulder, throwing him off balance. The roar of a helicopter's blades reached his ears and he looked up. A fucking sniper in a fucking helicopter. Who the fuck does that? The same image briefly entered his mind. On top of the bank he picked out to rob, snipers wearing the same colors riding in helicopters had tried to take him down along with Boss and Shaundi.

Distracted by a distant memory, he didn't notice a red and black Infuego speeding down the middle of the street towards him. The impact was hard and swift, flinging his body up in the air. He met the ground again with a hard smack, knocking the air out of his lungs and blurring his vision. "Fuck, that hurt..." He murmured, trying to shake off the daze. He could hear his enemies advancing, rushing to take advantage of the damage a simple car had done. But his head hurt, his ribs hurt, his legs were shaky. The scene that took place on top of Stilwater First National Bank was stuck in his mind, making it harder to get up. His stomach began to churn violently. "No... Not now..."

A hand grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him up to his knees. He raised his gun in an attempt to defend himself, only to have it knocked away but not out of his hand. "Stupid, what the fuck's wrong with you?"

_'That voice...'_ He opened his eyes and got a glimpse of angry green eyes. "Niki?"

She shook him hard then let go, allowing him to drop at her feet. "Get the fuck up! I knew I shouldn't have let you out of the damn car." She turned sharply and held up both hands, dual-wielding D4TH Blossom. Shots rang out and two bodies dropped to the ground. "You probably haven't had enough time purge whatever medications they used out of your body."

"I can handle it. It's just a little Tylenol and Unisom. I'm good, really." He brought himself up on one knee. "Don't know what the fuck that car's made of, but _damn._"

"What-the-fuck-ever. Just get up and start shooting. We need to get out of here."

"Gotcha." With a grunt, he got on his feet and lifted his weapons.

**o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o**

"You need to see this, sir."

Killbane looked up from the paperwork on his desk in time to see his newly appointed lieutenant for the Deckers, Alice, slide a tablet pc towards him. "This had better be good, girl."

She bit her lip to keep her attitude in check. "It is, sir. This is live feed from the Morningstar stationed in the High End Retail district. You won't fucking believe it."

He tapped the screen and it woke from a brief electronic slumber. Gunshots echoed in the quiet office. At first, he didn't know what he was looking at, and was about to shove the thing down her throat, until a familiar face caught his eye. "No fucking way."

"I ran the image through face recognition software and got a hit: Johnathan Kim or Johnny Gat as he's better known."

Killbane rose from his chair slowly. The Saints' violent bulldog was alive? "How do you know this isn't some copy cat?"

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Judging by the way he's dropping bodies like it's nobody's business, I'd say he's either the real deal or a clone. Seeing as Loren was the one who 'confirmed' Gat was dead, and had a hard-on for cloning experiments, I wouldn't place a bet in that toss up."

"Odd how he shows up out of nowhere after the fire that destroyed one of Loren's research labs." Just as he was about to put the tablet down, another figure quickly raced into the picture. A woman with black hair that moved like it was alive. "Who the hell is that?"

Alice hesitated at first, but moved to his side, brushing her black tresses over her shoulder so she could look over his meaty arm. Her eyes shot open and her draw dropped in shock. "Nikita?"

"You know her?" Her superior eyed her suspiciously.

"Y-yeah. She's a legend among the mercenaries. Haven't you heard of her?" She looked up at him, feigned innocence showing in her steel gray eyes. "She's one of the top paid mercs. I-I've heard _so much_ about her; she's nicknamed Shadow because she's so _efficient_. Jeez, Google her or something."

"I'll do better than that. Send orders to kill him and bring her in. Maybe she'll be interested in working for the Syndicate." He dropped the tablet down onto the desk.

Alice frowned and snatched up the tablet. "Hey! Be careful, this thing is my life."

"How smart of you to put your life into something so small and fragile." He sneered, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. She quickly retreated, clutching the tablet to her chest. As she walked briskly down the cold gray hallway, she wondered just what the hell her best friend was doing with someone who she was supposed to have killed just days ago.

"Fuck."

**o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o**

"Damn it." Nikita threw down her useless gun and looked at Gat over her shoulder. "I'm running out of ammo!"

Gat emptied a clip into an enemy and snatched their gun. "There's plenty laying around. Pick one up!"

She frowned, quickly blocking a punch then lashing out with her foot to kick her attacker in his kneecap, breaking it. "I don't use random guns if I can help it!"

"What the fuck kind of philosophy is that?" He turned to her. "In a situation like this, you can't be picky!" He aimed at her and pulled the trigger quickly. She didn't even have enough time to flinch. She heard a loud grunt before dead weight knocked into her, pushing her aside.

"Can you not do that?! You're gonna fuck up and kill me!"

"I am not gonna kill you - I haven't made love to your private parts with my mouth yet." He wiggled his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip seductively. When her jaw dropped open and her cheeks flushed scarlet, he chuckled and turned back to the task at hand. "I'm gonna take down this fucking helicopter. You clear out the rest of the Morningstar."

"Fucking arrogant asshole." She pulled her dagger out of its place on her calf, determined to use it well. Her gun took care of a few more targets before it clicked in protest. With a growl, she threw it at the following target before jumping onto the hood of a nearby car then leaping onto him. She shoved her black dagger into his throat to the hilt and snatched it out right as they crashed to the ground with her sitting on his chest. "One down..."

Gat had his work cut out for him. With his stomach acting up, it was nothing short of a chore to have to dodge bullets and shoot at the propellers of the helicopter. But he'd be damned if he didn't get the job done. Another bullet hit him in his right leg before the damn helicopter finally started smoking then caught on fire. "About fucking ti - "

A muffled cry caught his attention. To his left, Nikita quickly advanced on her prey like a black panther, doing a few quick front flips to dodge his bullets before wrapping her legs around his head. A twist of her hips snapped his neck and she released him. Gat started to smile as the helicopter crashed into the ground behind him until he realized that a dark red spot on her stomach was growing steadily in size. "Niki, you okay?"

He turned to go to her but more bullets whizzed by his head, begging for his immediate attention. "Fuck!"

The pain wasn't anything new to Nikita, but she was upset with herself. Gat was right - in this kind of situation she couldn't afford to be picky about weapons. Her training, however, had taught her to be skilled with her hands in case her weapons failed her. Experience had taught her not to trust anything she hadn't handled herself. The bullet in her gut taught her to be prepared for anything. Especially if Gat was in company. Ugh. Because she'd been so close to her shooter before taking him down, she knew the bullet was in deep. If she didn't get to a hospital soon, she'd bleed out and die.

If this was what it was like to be Gat, she didn't want the experience.

"Niki!" Gat grabbed her arm and pushed her along. "Let's get out of here!" She nodded absently and moved her feet, leading the way to her car parked not far from where they were.

**o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o**

The scene was unbelievable.

Tony got out of the gang car and let out a low whistle. Burning Morningstar cars, dead bodies, and a burning helicopter littered the street, along with dropped guns, money, and other various items. He'd heard the commotion from a few blocks away and, thinking his fellow Saints had been engaged in combat, grabbed his crew and rushed over to give aid.

Holy. Shit.

He hadn't seen this kind of destruction since the Boss last went nuts back in Steelport. Before then, it had been Johnny...

"Yo, Tony. I found some of that Skullcandy the Deckers are producing on one of the bodies. Enough to sell."

"So they are sell - " The screech of tires cut him off and a black sports car zipped by. Despite how fast the car was going, there was no mistaking the face of the passenger. It was mighty hard to forget the person who canonized him - the fucker thoroughly enjoyed every punch he delivered to Tony's face.

Trembling slightly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held down a button, speed dialing his handler. "Yo, Pierce. You won't believe what the fuck I just saw."


End file.
